


When Jake Met Amy

by roguecaster



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Slow Burn, When Harry Met Sally AU, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguecaster/pseuds/roguecaster
Summary: The first time Amy Santiago met Jake Peralta, she hated him.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Amy Santiago met Jake Peralta, she hated him.

She didn’t even want to be giving him a ride in the first place. Her best friend Kylie had come to her, saying that this new guy she’d been dating was also starting at the New York State Police Academy, and wouldn’t it be great if they drove up to it together?

Amy had wanted to join the NYPD for as long as she could remember. The idea of keeping the streets safe, bringing criminals to justice, and solving crimes made shivers of excitement run up and down her spine. She planned on spending the drive there preparing by giving herself pep talks and listening to a motivational audio book.

What she did _not_ plan on doing was driving to Kylie’s house to pick up a complete stranger to bring with her. Granted, it was only a little over an hour’s drive since he was from Long Island, but still. 

Amy pulled up to the curb in front of Kylie’s house and looked over to find her best friend making out with a guy on her front lawn. Amy winced and looked away, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and checking her watch. She glanced back after a couple seconds, but they were still going at it.

With a sigh, Amy cleared her throat, hoping they would hear it and get the hint, but no such luck: they carried on like she wasn’t even there. Amy upped it a notch, letting out a loud cough.

Kylie and the guy jumped apart, clearly startled. “Oh, hi Amy,” Kylie said, a little breathlessly. “Um — Amy, this is Jake Peralta. Jake, this is Amy Santiago.”

Jake nodded at her. “Nice to meet you.”

“The trunk’s open,” Amy said briskly. She didn’t have time to exchange pleasantries with this guy; the clock was ticking and she was not going to be late for her first day at the Academy.

“Oo-kay,” Jake mumbled, but he picked up his bag and carried it over to her car, popping the trunk and putting it in. Amy couldn’t figure out how he managed to put his things into just one bag; they were going to be gone for _six months,_ for God’s sake. One of her bags alone was dedicated to just her binders.

Jake and Kylie were now engaged in a very enthusiastic good-bye kiss. Amy checked her watch again before honking her horn, sending them jumping apart for the second time. Kylie merely smiled apologetically, but Jake looked annoyed. Amy suppressed an eye-roll.

“Call me as soon as you get there,” Kylie said.

“I’ll call you _before_ I get there,” Jake promised. Now Amy actually did roll her eyes. She was never one for public displays of affection or gooey, lovey-dovey talk. She did have dignity, after all.

Finally, Jake got in the car and Amy drove away. She could see Kylie standing in the middle of the street, waving like they were on a boat heading out to sea.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Jake asked, “So, should we tell each other our life stories?”

“No,” Amy answered. 

“No? Why not?” Jake said. “Do you have a tragic past that gives you dramatic flashbacks whenever you talk about it? Or, wait, do you have a _suuuper_ dark secret that would ruin your reputation if anyone else knew?” He was facing her head-on now, grinning like he was actually interested. 

“No,” Amy repeated coolly. “I just don’t feel like telling you my life story.”

“Ah,” Jake said. He didn’t sound angry or put out; instead, he almost seemed amused, like he could tell he was winding her up and was enjoying himself. “Well, say no more, Amy Santiago. All further discussions of our lives are hereby banned from this vehicle.”

“Thank you.” 

They drove in silence a little more before he asked, “So, what made you join the Academy?”

“I thought all further discussions of our lives were hereby banned from this vehicle?” Amy said, annoyed. 

“Oh, right,” Jake said. “Well, rules were meant to be broken anyway.”

“If that’s your mindset, why are you becoming a cop?” 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Jake said, beaming. “Well, my favorite movie ever is _Die Hard_. I want to be the next John McClane. Solve crimes, bring people to justice, foil the heists of German criminals.”

“Never seen it,” Amy said.

“What? You’ve never seen _Die Hard?_ ” Jake asked, gasping like she’d shot him or something. “How can you want to be a cop and never have seen _Die Hard?_ ”

“I’m sure many people who are cops have never seen that movie, not just me,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “I want to be captain of a precinct someday. And I like helping people, making the world a better place. Plus my dad is a cop, so.”

“Oh, so you’re in it for the _nobility_ and whatever,” Jake said. “Gotcha.” 

Amy sighed before reaching over and turning up the radio so they couldn’t talk anymore. They drove for a little while longer before Jake said, “Hey, there’s a rest stop at the next exit.”

“So?”

“Let’s stop for lunch.”

“We don’t have time to stop,” Amy said immediately.

“Are you kidding? We have so much time. Check-in isn’t for three more hours, which is insane, by the way.”

“Sorry I like to be early,” Amy said waspishly. 

“Come on. Let’s just stop and quickly get something to eat. Please? _Please please please please?_ ”

She barely knew him, but somehow Amy could just tell that if she didn’t say yes now, he’d bother her for the entire rest of the trip. And they _were_ making good time, after all, and she _had_ skipped breakfast that morning, too excited to eat. 

“Fine,” she gave in, putting on her blinker. Jake cheered. 

They pulled up in front of a roadside diner and went in. “What can I get for you?” the waitress asked once they were seated. 

Jake barely glanced at the menu. “Yeah, I’ll have the number two, please.” Amy checked the menu. Apparently, the number two was a bacon cheeseburger with chili on top. She forced herself not to gag.

“I’ll just have the chef’s salad with the dressing on the side. I’d also like a slice of apple pie with vanilla ice cream, warmed up, but if you don’t have vanilla ice cream then I’ll just have whipped cream but don’t warm it up, but if you don’t have apple pie then I’ll just have cheesecake.” She beamed at the waitress, who looked unimpressed. “Thank you.”

The waitress left, and Amy turned back to Jake, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing. You’re pretty particular about stuff, huh?”

Amy shrugged. “What’s wrong with wanting things to be the way I like them?”

“Nothing at all,” Jake said, but something about his tone told her that he was making fun of her.

They avoided speaking to each other by checking their phones until their food came. Amy was pleased to find her apple pie warmed up and delivered with vanilla ice cream. Jake’s food, however, looked horrendous: it was dripping with chili and cheese. 

“You’re going to get heart disease from the first bite alone,” she commented as she poured some dressing onto her salad.

“I know, right? It’s gonna be awesome,” Jake said enthusiastically as he took a huge bite of his burger. Amy looked away, shuddering. 

They ate in silence for a while before Jake asked, “So, you said your dad is a cop?”

Amy nodded slowly. “Yes. And a few of my brothers are in some type of law enforcement too. So, it basically runs in the family.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Seven.”

“Seven.” Jake whistled softly. “Wow. I’m an only child.” 

“Consider yourself lucky,” Amy said, shaking her head. “Living with seven other boys was a nightmare. Especially sharing a bathroom.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought. 

“I dunno, it sounds kinda fun,” Jake said thoughtfully, eating a French fry. “It’s kinda hard to be bored when there’s always someone around to hang out with you, you know?”

“I suppose.”

“I mean, my mom worked a lot, so my nana watched me and my friend Gina every day after school until I was old enough to hang out at home by myself. Sometimes it got kinda lonely, I guess.” He stared off into space for a second. Amy watched him, unsure of what to say. But just as quickly as it happened, it was over, and Jake was perking back up again. “Hey, do you think I could shoot my straw wrapper into your glass from here?”

“No, I don’t,” Amy said, pulling her glass of water closer to herself, as if to shield it. “And I don’t think you should try either.”

They finished their food and got the bill. Jake threw down a couple of dollar bills, but Amy took her time, calculating the precise tip and making sure to give at least 20%. Once that was settled, she stacked and organized the bills and placed them neatly under her water glass.

“There.” She glanced up to find Jake staring at her. “What? Is there something on my face?” She quickly wiped her mouth.

“No,” Jake shrugged. “You’re really attractive.”

“Oh,” Amy felt her face involuntarily flush. “Thank you.”

“Kylie never mentioned how attractive you are.”

“Maybe she doesn’t find me attractive,” Amy said sarcastically, trying to bring the conversation back to the sort-of-banter they’d been developing. 

“I don’t think it’s a matter of opinion. Objectively, you are very attractive.”

Amy looked at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. Then, she said, slowly and calmly so he’d understand, “Kylie is my friend.”

“So?”

“So you’re dating her.”

“So?”

“ _So_ , you’re coming on to me.” Amy stood up from the table in a huff and flounced towards the door.

“What? I am not,” Jake insisted. “Come on, a guy can’t tell a girl she’s attractive without it being some type of come-on?” When she merely glared at him, unimpressed, he held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, so maybe it was a come-on. But what do you want me to do about it? Did we call no take-backsies? I don’t think we did, so here: I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back,” Amy snapped, getting into the car and slamming the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s already out there!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What do you want me to do then?”

“Just . . .” Amy sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Just let it lie. Please. Forget about it.”

“Great. Awesome. Lettin’ it lie. That’s my motto, and that’s what I’m doing: letting. It. Lie.” Jake was quiet for a total of maybe thirty seconds before he blurted out, “Your hair is really shiny.” 

“What?”

“Yeah, I know I said letting it lie was my motto, but it’s not. I’m bringing it up again.”

“Jake.”

“You should know that I am actually physically incapable of letting things lie.”

 

“Jake.”

“Like, _actually_ physically —”

“ _Jake!_ ” Amy cut him off loudly. She could feel a headache coming on, and frankly, she was surprised it hadn’t started sooner with the way this drive was going. 

“What?”

“We are just going to be friends, okay? If that,” she mumbled to herself, because the last thing she really wanted was to consider Jake Peralta a friend, but if it was what would pacify him, then so be it.

“Friends,” Jake repeated. And then he laughed. “Oh, Amy Santiago, we can never just be friends.”

Amy furrowed her eyebrows. “And why is that?”

“Because — and this is not me coming on to you in any way, shape, or form — men and women can’t be friends, because the sex part always gets in the way.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Amy had to pause for a second and let his words sink in.

“That is completely untrue,” she said. “I’ll have you know I have a number of guy friends and there is no sex involved.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you only _think_ you do.”

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m having sex with all of these men without my knowledge?”

Jake snorted, because he really was that immature. “No, I’m just saying they all want to have sex with you.”

“They do not!”

“Yeah they do.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because no guy is ever gonna be friends with a girl he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.”

“So you’re saying men can be friends with women they find _unattractive?_ ” Amy asked, practically fuming at how ludicrous the conversation was.

Jake thought for a second. “No, you pretty much wanna nail them, too.”

“Well, what if they don’t want to have sex with you?”

“Doesn’t matter. The sex thing is already there, and thus the friendship is doomed.”

“Well,” Amy said, trying to regain her composure. “I guess we’re never going to be friends then.”

“Guess not,” Jake said cheerfully. “It’s too bad, too. You’re the only person I know at the Academy.”

“I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making friends,” Amy said dryly. “ _Male_ friends, of course.”

Jake shot double finger guns at her. “You get it.”

* * *

Finally, they arrived at the Academy. Despite how annoyed she was, Amy felt a balloon of excitement and nerves swell in her stomach. She eagerly tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she was directed to a parking spot. 

She and Jake got out of the car and began to unload their respective things from the trunk. Jake finished first, since he only had one bag. “Well, thanks for the ride,” he said. 

Amy nodded. “It was . . . interesting.” 

“It was nice knowing you.”

“Yeah.”

He held out his hand, and she shook it. Now that they were standing face-to-face, she found herself looking up at him. His eyes were brown. They were kind of nice, if you liked brown eyes. Which Amy kind of did.

She forced herself to snap out of it, taking her hand back. Jake grinned at her one more time before he turned to walk away. She watched him for a moment and before she knew what was happening, she was calling out, “Have a nice life!”

To her surprise, Jake looked back and waved. “You too.”

And that was the last time she saw him for five years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time publishing a fic on this website, so sorry if it looks a little weird! I'm on tumblr at softmoony if you want to come say hi :)


	2. Chapter 2

“Got your toothbrush?” Teddy asked.

Amy held up her suitcase to indicate she did. “Yes.”

“Your backup toothbrush?”

“Yes.”

“Your backup-in-case-the-backup-gets-lost toothbrush?”

Amy smiled. “Yes.”

“Okay. Good.” Teddy grinned down at her fondly. “I’ll miss you, Ames.”

“I’ll only be gone for three days,” Amy reminded him. Her grandma down in Florida had fallen and busted her hip, so everyone in the family was taking turns going to see her and take care of her. Amy would be reliving her cousin before being relieved in turn by one of her brothers.

“I know,” Teddy said with a sigh. “Somehow I’ll manage.” He leaned down and kissed her, and Amy let herself get lost into it. She and Teddy had only been dating for about a month, but so far it was going great. He liked all of the same things she liked; the same shows, same foods, same books. They even had the same job, which was where they met. She didn’t think a better match could be made. 

They’d only been kissing for a minute or so when Amy got the strange sensation that she was being watched. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Teddy doing the same. She looked to her left and saw, to her surprise, a man was standing uncomfortably close to them, squinting at them. He looked vaguely familiar, but for some reason she just couldn’t place him.

However, the man wasn’t focused on her, but on Teddy. “Teddy?” he asked. “Teddy Wells?”

“Yeah . . .” Teddy said cautiously.

The man grinned and held out his hand. “Jake Peralta.”

Teddy’s face split into a big smile. “Jake! How are you, buddy?” The two of them shook hands enthusiastically.

“Good, good. Are you still at the seven-six?”

“No, I got transferred to the eight-two. Where are you?”

“Still at the nine-nine in Brooklyn.”

“Awesome.” Teddy noticed Amy seemingly trying to hide behind him and moved aside. “Oh, sorry Ames. Jake, this is my girlfriend Amy Santiago. She also works with me. Amy, this is Jake. We met during police training.”

Amy nodded to him, praying that Jake wouldn’t recognize her. Luckily, he didn’t seem to. “Nice to meet you.”

The three of them stood there awkwardly until Jake finally said, “Well, it was great to see you, Teddy. See you around.” He gave them a little wave before heading to his terminal. 

Amy let out a big sigh of relief once he was gone. “Thank God he didn’t recognize me. We drove to the Academy together on our first day and it was the longest drive of my life.”

“Why?” Teddy said with a bewildered laugh. 

“Why? He was super annoying, for one thing — oh, and he made a pass at me! He tried to hit on me while he was dating one of my friends . . . Kylie! You remember Kylie, right?”

“Uh-huh. So what happened?” 

“I said no, of course,” Amy said. “I told him we could just be friends. And — this is the most ridiculous part — he told me that men and women can never be friends because of the ‘sex thing.’ Can you believe that?”

“Wow,” Teddy said, frowning. “He always seemed like a decent guy to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Amy said, shaking her head. Before she could finish her sentence, a voice came over the loudspeaker, informing her that her plane was now boarding passengers. “I guess that’s me,” she said. 

“I’ll miss you,” Teddy said. He paused. “I love you.”

Amy felt her heart stutter. “You do?”

“Yeah.”

Amy smiled, knowing she was blushing. “I love you too.”

* * *

She was still smiling twenty minutes later, gazing past the woman next to her and out the window as she replayed their conversation over and over in her mind. _I love you. I love you._ I _love_ you. 

Amy knew she definitely wasn’t the easiest person to date. All her life she’d been told by her family, friends, teachers, co-workers, and yes, romantic partners that she was too obsessive, too high-maintenance. If something was out of place or wasn’t exactly how she wanted it, it was like an itch inside her brain that she just couldn’t scratch. There was probably a diagnosis for it, OCD or something like that, and most likely there was medication for it, but Amy couldn’t be bothered. As long as her life went the way she wanted it to (and so far it was), she had nothing to be worried about.

Teddy knew all of this, and he still loved her anyway. Amy felt her smile get bigger and goofier. 

“Miss?” a voice asked, breaking her out of her trance. Amy turned and saw the flight attendant half-leaning over the displeased man in the aisle seat so she could talk to her. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’ll have coffee, please,” Amy said. The flight attendant nodded and started to move, but Amy quickly added, “And I’d like cream with that, not milk, and Sweet n’ Low instead of sugar but if you don’t have that then I’ll take Splenda, but if you don’t have that then just forget the coffee altogether.”

The flight attendant nodded slowly and hurried off. Suddenly, someone behind her said, “Amy Santiago!”

Amy turned and jumped a mile: Jake Peralta’s face was peering at her from over the seat, because _of course_ he was on the same flight as her and _of course_ he was in the row behind her. 

“Yes,” she said cautiously.

“You went to the New York Police Academy, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she repeated.

“And you graduated? About five years ago?”

“Yes.”

“And we didn’t . . . ?” he trailed off, and she felt her eyes widen with horror once she realized what he was getting at.

“No! God, no!” She turned to the man next to her, who was watching them with amusement. “I drove him to the Police Academy on our first day, that’s all.”

“That’s right!” Jake snapped his fingers in triumph. “You were friends with . . . what was her name, I was dating her at the time . . .”

“Kylie,” Amy finished, unimpressed.

“Yeah, Kylie!”

“Would you two like to sit together?” the man asked.

“Oh, I don’t want to inconvenience you —” Amy started, but Jake beamed and stood up. “That’d be great, thanks!” Amy closed her eyes as Jake settled down next to her. She could already feel a headache coming on.

“So, what have you been up to for the last five years?” Jake asked cheerfully, either unaware of her annoyance or just not caring. 

“I graduated and became a cop,” Amy said dully. 

Jake gasped in mock surprise. “No way! Me too! We have so much in common!”

“Incredible.”

“And I see you’re dating Teddy?”

Amy smiled despite herself. “Yeah. We’ve been together about a month or so. It’s going really well.” She forced herself to stop. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Jake chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy there. He’s all yours. I’m sure you and him will be very happy together fighting crime and brewing pilsners.” Amy rolled her eyes as he continued, “I’m a kept man anyway.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You mean _you_ have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Santiago. And I guess she’s more than my girlfriend now; we just got engaged. So I guess she’s my fiancee.”

“Wow.” Amy stared at him, dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe that someone like Jake Peralta was actually capable of getting engaged and settling down. “Congratulations, I guess. What’s her name?”

“Sophia Perez. She’s a defense attorney.”

“A defense attorney?” Defense attorneys and cops weren’t exactly a great pair, considering cops were the ones who brought criminals in and DAs were the ones who got them out. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. We get along well provided we don’t talk about our jobs. She’s cool.” 

“That’s great. I’m, uh, happy for you.”

Jake smiled at her, big and cheesy. “Aw, Amy Santiago, are we becoming best friends right now?”

“No,” Amy said firmly. “Absolutely not. Besides, wasn’t it you who told me that men and women can’t be friends because of ‘the sex thing’ getting in the way?”

Jake’s grin faltered as he remembered. “Yeah, that might’ve been me. But I was young and immature then! We can be friends now because we both have significant others. There. I amended the rule.”

“You can’t just amend a rule any time you feel like it,” Amy pointed out. 

“Why not? The government did it. 27 times, to be exact.”

“Yeah, but that’s the only time it’s really allowed. You can’t just go around making new rules for rules that already exist because then that takes away the purpose of the rule itself.” 

Jake stared at her. “You are such a dork.”

“Shut up,” Amy said heatedly. 

“You are, though,” Jake said. He seemed amused, like getting her mad was a game to him or something. He put his chin in his hand, propping his elbow up on the armrest like he was studying her. “Let me guess. You’re a stickler for the rules, always have been. You like things to be neat and in order and exactly the way you like them, and if they aren’t then you don’t like them at all. You were probably really good in school, studied Economics maybe? You definitely own a lot of binders. Am I right?”

Amy blinked at him for a second. “You’re wrong about one thing,” she said finally.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“What I studied. Not Economics. Art History.”

The corners of Jake’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Huh. Interesting.”

They didn’t speak much for the rest of the flight. Jake was the type of person who could fall asleep in seconds and stay asleep for hours. Amy wasn’t complaining, though. Having a conversation with him was draining.

He was still sleeping when they touched down in Orlando. She climbed over him to get her bags out of the overhead compartment before studying his peaceful face and the small puddle of drool that had dripped onto his shirt. Finally, she reached out and tapped him lightly. “Hey. Wake up, we’re here.”

“Huh?” Jake flailed, nearly hitting her in the face. “Oh. Oh, Amy Santiago. How long was I out for?”

“Long enough for me to enjoy the flight in peace,” she teased before turning and exiting the plane.

She’d hoped that would be the end of their time together, but no such luck. As she was exiting the terminal, she heard loud footsteps running up behind her. She didn’t even need to turn to see who it was. 

“Hey,” Jake panted, coming up beside her. “I was thinking. About my amendment to the rule.”

“And?”

“And . . . I thought it might work out, since we both have significant others. But then I realized that what _doesn’t_ work is that both our partners might not understand why we have to be friends. Because then it’s like, is there something missing from our relationship? And you say no, there isn’t, and then they accuse you of being secretly attracted to the person you’re friends with and honestly, you probably are, and then that brings us back to Square One, the original rule —”

“Jake,” Amy interrupted as they came out of the terminal. She could see her cousin standing there, waiting for her. 

He stopped. “Yeah?”

“Goodbye.”

Jake stared at her for a beat. Then he seemed to realize what she meant by it, and he nodded. “Goodbye, Amy Santiago.”

She turned to walk away when she heard him call, “Have a nice life!”

Amy laughed a little to herself. She turned back and waved. “You too.”

And that was the last time she saw him for five more years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST!!! Comments and kudos are so appreciated and loved, I hope this makes up for the slight wait :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay, Amy,” Amy mumbled to herself, looking at her reflection in the elevator door as she rode up to the fourth floor of the 99th precinct. “It’s your first day. No big deal. So what if it’s a completely different setting and completely new people? You got this. It’s in the _bag,_ girlfriend.” She nodded, trying to put on a confident face, but she could feel it quickly disappearing as the elevator stopped at her floor.

The doors opened and she was immediately met with a tall, formidable-looking man. “Detective Santiago, I presume?” he said. His voice was deep and monotonous, but for some reason Amy found it oddly comforting, reassuring almost.

“Yes sir.”

“Raymond Holt, captain of this precinct. But you may call me Captain, Captain Holt, or any combination of the aforementioned nicknames.”

Even though there really weren’t any more possible combinations of the nicknames, Amy chose to ignore it. Correcting your boss within the first minute of meeting him for the first time was definitely not on the list of how to make a good first impression.

She held out her hand instead. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He shook it and nodded at her. “Your handshake. It’s very firm. Your palms aren’t clammy and you have a good shake-release ratio. Impressive.”

“Thank you, sir,” Amy said. She could tell she was going to like the captain already.

“Gina, our administrative assistant, will show you to your desk.” He pointed to a woman a few feet away who was texting rapidly, her thumbs moving so fast they were almost blurred. “Gina!”

The woman looked up and, with a roll of her eyes, got up from her desk and sauntered over to where they were standing. “Gina Linetti,” she introduced herself. “Also known as glitter personified.” 

“Amy Santiago. Nice to meet you,” Amy held out her hand, but Gina stepped away from it as though it had germs.

“Rule #1: don’t touch the art,” she said, gesturing to herself. “Come on, I’ll show you to your desk.” She walked away, leaving Amy no choice but to follow in confusion. 

“Here’s your desk,” Gina said. It was simple enough, with a computer and a phone and a chair, but Amy couldn’t help but beam, especially once she saw the DET. AMY SANTIAGO name plate on the side of it. 

Amy was hoping that this strange girl would leave her alone after this, but Gina merely leaned closer and said, “So, Annie, let me tell you what’s what around this place.”

“It’s Amy,” Amy corrected her weakly, but Gina kept speaking like Amy wasn’t even there. She pointed out everybody in the precinct and gave Amy what she probably thought were helpful facts about each person, but left Amy feeling a little shocked and disgusted. _”And that’s Charles over there. Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I should inform you that I was once hittin’ that, but we’re technically family now, so . . .”_

By the time she got through everyone, Amy was a little dizzy. What kind of place was this? “I think that’s everyone,” Gina said, looking around. “Wait a second. Captain, where’s Jake?”

“Currently seven minutes late,” Captain Holt answered. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the elevator. “But it’s still early.”

“Jake is your deskmate,” Gina told Amy. “He’s at least ten minutes late every day. Holt times him.” Amy waited for her to add a weird, disturbing fact about him, but she didn’t. Maybe Jake was the only other normal person around here.

Gina went back to her desk and Amy busied herself by turning on her computer and trying to get her things organized. A few minutes later, the elevator dinged.

“Peralta,” Holt announced, and Amy blinked. _Jake Peralta._ She knew that name. But it couldn’t be. “You are thirteen minutes and twenty-nine seconds late today.”

“Sorry, Cap’n,” a cheerful voice that didn’t sound the least bit sorry answered. “I was almost going to be on time, really, I was! But then I thought, we have such a nice thing going. You know, I walk in late, you tell me how many minutes and seconds late I am, I promise to do better but we all know I won’t, blah blah blah. So I just couldn’t screw that up.” 

Amy closed her eyes. She knew that voice. She hadn’t heard it in five years, but she knew it all the same. Slowly, she turned around. 

Jake Peralta was standing a few feet away from her. He had that same stupid leather jacket and that same stupid cocky grin. She watched as he looked around the precinct before his eyes came to rest on her and promptly widened. His jaw dropped. 

“Peralta?” Captain Holt said. He followed Jake’s line of vision. “Peralta, may I ask why you’re staring at Detective Santiago?”

“Santiago?” Jake repeated. “As in, Amy Santiago?” His grin got even wider. Amy wanted to curl up in a little ball under her desk and stay there forever.

“Yes,” Captain Holt said slowly. “I take it you two . . . know each other?” He stared at Amy. She could tell that being associated with Jake was not going to earn her any brownie points with the captain. Great. She’d been here for ten minutes and Jake Peralta was already ruining everything.

“No!” she said quickly. “I mean, yes, but no, we aren’t . . . we’re acquaintances, sir. If that,” she mumbled to herself.

“If by ‘acquaintances’ you mean ‘best friends’ then yes, we are,” Jake said, beaming. “Ooh, look! We’re desk buddies. This is going to be so fun.”

“Hmm,” Captain Holt said. “Yes. Fun.” And with that ominous remark, he retreated into his office. 

Amy glared at Jake. “Of all the precincts, you have to work at this one,” she said with a sigh.

Jake shrugged as he sat down across from her. “Hey, I’ve been here for years. Not my fault you chose to transfer here. Speaking of, why _did_ you transfer here? Weren’t you at the eight-two with Teddy?”

Amy was proud of herself for not showing any emotion at the sound of his name. “I was,” she said, keeping her voice light. “He and I are no longer . . . involved . . . so I decided to request a transfer. I knew things at work would get weird and it was just for the best.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Ah. I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

She shrugged. “I wanted to get married. He didn’t.”

Jake nodded. “Oh. That sucks.” 

“Yeah,” Amy agreed. “So, how are you? How’s married life treating you?”

Jake’s entire face dropped and she knew she’d said the wrong thing. “I wouldn’t know,” he said ruefully. “I’m not married.”

“Oh.” Amy felt her face turn red. “I’m sorry, I just — the last time I saw you, you were engaged, so I just assumed —” She heard her brother David’s voice in her head as soon as she said it, taunting her the way he used to when they were kids. _When you assume, you make an ‘ass’ out of ‘you’ and ‘me.’_ She certainly was.

“It’s okay,” Jake said quickly. “No big deal.” He didn’t elaborate, so Amy didn’t push, although she was curious. 

“Peralta. Santiago,” Captain Holt said, coming out of his office once more. “Since you two are already so well-acquainted, I’m assigning you both to this homicide case.”

“Ooh, our first case together! Are you just as excited as I am, Santiago?” Jake asked, clapping.

“Thrilled,” Amy said dully. 

They looked over the case file before heading over to the crime scene. An elderly, wealthy widow who lived by herself had been murdered, asleep in her bed. “All evidence is pointing towards the housekeeper right now,” Jake said as they walked through her apartment. “She was the last person in here to see Mrs. Mackenzie alive. She needs the money, so there’s your motive. She’s got a key to the place.”

“Yeah, but they checked out her apartment and couldn’t find the murder weapon,” Amy reminded him.

“She could’ve gotten rid of it,” Jake said. “Chucked it in the river.”

“Maybe,” Amy said. But something didn’t feel right. The whole thing just felt too . . . easy. She looked around the apartment and noticed multiple framed pictures of Mrs. Mackenzie and her late husband. There was only one of a young boy wearing big, 80s-style glasses. 

“Mrs. Mackenzie has a son?” Amy said. 

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Lives in Manhattan. He was the one who called it in this morning.” 

“Huh,” Amy said. “Were they close?”

“The neighbors said he rarely ever visited, and when he did all they did was argue,” Jake said, reading from the case file. “That doesn’t mean they weren’t, though.”

“Would she only have one picture of him from thirty years ago if they were?” Amy asked, pointing to it.

“Yeah, but . . . what, you think the son did it?”

“I don’t know. It makes more sense to me than the housekeeper,” Amy shrugged. “He’s probably got his own set of keys, so he came in during the night, killed her, and then called it in himself to set up the housekeeper.”

“But what’s the motive?”

“Same as the housekeeper’s. Money.”

Jake looked skeptical. “I don’t know . . .”

“Let’s search his apartment,” Amy suggested. “Maybe the murder weapon will be there.”

“We’ll need a warrant. And probable cause.”

“Okay, so we’ll interview the housekeeper and ask her about their relationship,” Amy said. “If the story lines up, we’ll get the warrant.” When Jake still didn’t look convinced, Amy said, “Come on Jake, just trust me. If I’m wrong we’ll go back to doing it your way.”

Jake looked at her, searching her face. Finally he nodded. “Okay.”

They went back to the station and interviewed the housekeeper. As soon as Amy mentioned the son, her eyes widened. She explained that he was a nasty boy who’d been spoiled by his mother his entire life until she finally cut him off once he moved out. She’d overheard him making threats to her a few days before she died, demanding money or else. “The money was going to go to him if she passed,” the housekeeper said. 

“That’s all we need!” Amy said brightly. “Let’s search the apartment.”

Sure enough, when they broke down the door a few hours later, they found a knife with both Mrs. Mackenzie and her son’s DNA on it in the back of his closet. “You were right,” Jake said, and he sounded almost in awe.

Amy pumped her fist. “Justice has been served, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Good job,” he said grudgingly as they watched Mrs. Mackenzie’s son get hauled away in handcuffs. “Sorry I doubted you.”

She waved him off. “It’s fine. I would’ve doubted me too. I’m just glad we figured it out.”

They drove back to the precinct in comfortable silence. As they were stopped at a red light, Jake said awkwardly, “So listen, there’s this bar near the Nine-Nine called Shaw’s. We all go there sometimes to celebrate solving a case or just hang out. They have pretty good food, too. Do you want to maybe grab a drink? As friends?”

To say she was startled was an understatement. Was Jake Peralta really asking her to hang out? And was she actually considering it? She didn’t answer for a second, and Jake hastily added, “It’s no big deal if you can’t, I just thought we could, uh, celebrate solving our first case together. But we can do it some other time.”

“No,” Amy said quickly. “No, I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool,” Jake said, a relieved smile on his face. He drove them to the bar, and they settled down in a booth with their drinks. 

At first, they discussed the case, but then as they kept drinking, they moved on to other topics. Specifically, why they were both single. Jake went first. “We were engaged for the longest time,” he explained. “For like, _ever_. And there was always some reason why we couldn’t get married: we didn’t have enough money. We were too busy. It just didn’t feel ‘right.’ And that was fine with me, because I was like hey, as long as we do it some day, that’s all that matters.” He shook his head. “And then one day I came home and all of her stuff was just in boxes.”

“That’s horrible!” Amy gasped. She couldn’t believe she was actually feeling sympathy for Jake Peralta, but it was certainly a day of firsts. “She never even gave you a reason for breaking it off?”

Jake laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, she did. Her reason was there with her, helping her carry her stuff downstairs.” It took Amy a second to get it, but when she did, her heart sank.

“Oh no.”

“Yeah. His name is _Richard,_ ” Jake said, spitting the name out like one would say _pneumonia_ or _dog shit_. “He’s a defense attorney too, so. It works out.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” Amy said, shaking her head.

He shrugged. “Yeah, well. What can you do? Let’s be real, a cop and a DA probably would never work out anyway.” 

“Well, I can safely tell you a cop and a cop probably won’t work out either,” Amy said glumly. 

“Yeah, so what happened there? Did you make him choose between you and his pilsners?” Jake asked, his usual teasing grin creeping back onto his face.

Amy laughed. “No, but honestly, his obsession with those things was always kind of weird to me. But when we first started dating it was perfect: we liked the same things and we wanted the same things too. We didn’t want to get married and we didn’t want to have kids because all of our married friends said those are when your life ends. If it’s not one, it’s the other. So that was great, and we were happy we could have sex on the floor whenever we wanted or we could fly off to Europe on a moment’s notice and just do whatever we wanted and not have kids weighing us down.”

“Did you?” Jake interjected.

“Did we what?”

“Have sex on the floor or fly off to Europe?”

Amy pointed at him. “No. And that’s exactly my point. We never did anything like that. So I went home and I said this is what I want, I want to get married and someday I might even want to have kids. And he didn’t. So we broke up.” She shrugged. “And honestly, I’m totally over it. I’m completely fine. I know that it was the right thing and really, it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Jake nodded. “You sound healthy.”

“I am,” Amy said, and only a small part of her didn’t mean it. “I totally am.”

“Well, I’m not,” Jake said with a sigh. “Sophia and I have been broken up for almost a year now and I’m still a huge mess. This is the first night this week that I haven’t spent it at home, crying into a microwave burrito.”

Amy laughed, although she knew Jake was probably serious, and was relieved when he smiled too. “You know,” she began, feeling bold from the success of the case (and maybe the alcohol too), “I really didn’t like you that much when we first met.”

“Oh please,” Jake scoffed. “You didn’t like me at all! You were so uptight and scary. Now you’re . . . a little less so.”

“Gee, thanks,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “And the reason I didn’t like you was because I didn’t want to sleep with you and you wrote it off as a character flaw or something! You just couldn’t believe that maybe it was because I just didn’t want to sleep with you.”

“C’mon, Ames, I was young and stupid,” Jake said with a grin. Amy felt her cheeks redden at the use of the nickname. “But fine, you’re right. What’s the statute of limitations on apologies?”

Amy thought for a second. “Ten years.”

“Then I can just make it under the wire. Amy Santiago, I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” Amy said graciously. 

Jake looked at her for a moment before he grinned again. “Amy Santiago, are we becoming friends?”

If someone had told the person she was ten years ago that she’d be sitting in a bar, bonding with Jake Peralta of all people, she would’ve laughed in their face. But now, Amy merely smiled. “Yes, Jake Peralta, I think we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, I get all of my cop info from watching "blue bloods" so if any of it is wrong I apologize. I have no clue how stuff like this works. but I hope this is enjoyable regardless! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Now that Jake and Amy were officially friends, she suddenly couldn’t get rid of him. And, to her surprise, she was kind of okay with that. 

In addition to seeing each other at work, they had an unspoken agreement to meet at Shaw’s for a drink any time they solved a case, whether the rest of the squad was there or not. And when Jake showed up at her apartment without warning one Friday night, brandishing take-out and declaring it was time she finally watch _Die Hard_ , Amy gladly let him in.

Then it turned into Amy calling Jake whenever she wanted to try a new restaurant or see a movie, and Jake texting Amy pictures of things at the office supply store he thought she’d like or asking for advice on what types of kitchen appliances to buy (“Do I really need a can opener? Who even uses them anymore, am I right?”). He was quickly moving from her co-worker to her friend to now her best friend. She knew it was probably weird, but with Jake it didn’t feel weird. It was just natural.

“You awake?” Amy said, staring at her TV, her phone held up to her ear. 

“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Santiago, of course I’m awake.”

“ _Casablanca_ is on. Channel 150.”

“Ooh! I’m a sucker for Humphrey Bogart, you know me so well.” There was a pause as Jake turned on the TV and they watched the movie “together.” It had become a recent occurrence, since neither of them were particularly good sleepers. Amy always had trouble falling asleep at night, ever since she was a little girl. Jake’s insomnia was just due to his heartbreak, but it still made Amy happy to have a late-night companion. 

Neither of them spoke much until the very end, when they both said together, “ _‘Louis, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’_ ”

“Noice,” Jake cheered as the credits began to roll. “One of the best movie endings ever.”

“Even better than _Die Hard_?” Amy teased.

“Don’t even joke about that.” She could practically see him shaking his head. “But seriously, it’s pretty close. Ingrid Bergman? What a woman.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s low-maintenance, for one thing.” 

“Low-maintenance?” Amy repeated. “What, is she a car or something?”

“No,” Jake said scornfully. “There are just two types of people: high-maintenance and low-maintenance.”

“And Ingrid Bergman is low-maintenance?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“What am I?”

“You’re the worst kind,” Jake said accusingly. “You’re high-maintenance, but you _think_ you’re low maintenance.”

“What do you mean?” Amy asked, affronted. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Ames, you take like twenty minutes to order your food whenever we go anywhere,” Jake said.

“Well, what’s wrong with that? I just like things to be the way I like them,” Amy said, and then immediately realized that that was what high-maintenance technically meant. “Oh. I guess I see your point.”

“Exactly,” Jake said, and she could tell he was smiling. “Oh, I forgot to mention: I think I’m coming down with something. Like a 24-hour tumor.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Jake, you don’t have a tumor.”

“How do you know?” he asked defensively. Almost every night, Jake claimed to be coming down with something, whether it was a tumor, a flesh-eating virus, or a weird rash on his arm (Amy wasn’t sure if he was really making that one up — Jake wasn’t that great at taking care of himself).

“If you’re so worried then go see a doctor,” she suggested.

“No,” Jake said, like she knew he would, “he’ll just tell me it’s nothing. Anyway, I think I’ll be fine.”

Amy yawned. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning. “You should get some sleep,” she said. 

“Nah, that’s okay. I think I’ll just stay up and moan.” He began to let out a series of pitiful-sounding moans and groans, making her laugh.

“Okay, Jake. Goodnight.”

He paused in his moaning to answer, “Goodnight, Amy,” before she hung up.

* * *

“Do you still sleep on the same side of the bed, or do you take up the whole bed now?” Jake asked, leaning over the monitors of both of their computers so he could see her. 

It was a quiet day inside the precinct: Rosa and Charles were on a stakeout, Terry and Captain Holt were inside Holt’s office talking, Hitchcock and Scully were fast asleep at their desks, worn out from the doughnut-eating competition they’d had earlier that morning, and Gina was immersed in her phone, which meant she would only look up if Terry took his shirt off.

Amy was using her free time to do some paperwork. Jake claimed to be doing the same, but she didn’t see how he could get anything done when he kept popping up to bug her. She didn’t _really_ mind, though. 

“I did for a while,” she answered, not looking up from her screen. “But now I pretty much use the entire bed.

“That sounds great,” Jake said mournfully. “I always used to starfish when I slept, so Sophia, like, trained me to stay on my own side. Now I can’t break the habit.”

From what Amy knew, Jake not only starfished, but snored and sometimes laughed in his sleep. “You sound terrible to sleep with,” she remarked absently.

Jake smirked. “Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, Santiago.”

Amy felt her cheeks heat up as she realized what she’d just said. “I didn’t mean — not like that.”

“Relax,” he said, laughing. “I’m only kidding.”

“Anyway,” Amy continued, trying to sound unaffected. “I read this really good book —”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“— about moving on after ending a long-term relationship. It gives really good tips on how to enjoy being alone.”

Jake raised his eyebrows, mildly intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well, they say you shouldn’t eat standing up. Like, make a nice meal for yourself and sit at your table to eat.”

“Hmm.” Jake nodded and pretended to write it down. “Interesting. I’ll make sure to do that as soon as I get a table.”

“You don’t even — nevermind. Of course you don’t,” Amy said with a sigh. Jake had moved out of the apartment he’d shared with Sophia, mostly because it was affordable when two people were paying the rent, but certainly not one. His new place was . . . well, it was a shithole, and that was saying something. 

Jake shrugged with a grin. “By the way, do you want to go see a movie tonight? There’s one I really want to see, I can’t remember the name though . . .”

Amy wanted to point out that he must not want to see it _that_ badly if he couldn’t even remember the name, but refrained. There was a more pressing issue at hand. “I’m sorry, Jake,” she said. “I would, but I can’t tonight.”

“Oh? What’s up, Santiago? Got a hot date?”

Jake was going to add _with a binder?_ , but Amy took his pause-for-dramatic-effect as the end of his sentence and said, “Yes, actually.”

And, _oh._ Jake felt a weird rush of disappointment. It wasn’t like they’d ever acknowledged it, but he always thought he and Amy had an unspoken agreement to ride out their post-breakup depressions together. But just as quickly as the feeling came, he pushed it away. Just because he was a miserable, single fool who couldn’t move on didn’t mean Amy was too. Of course she was going to get back into the dating scene. She was beautiful and smart and even kind of fun, once you looked past all the dorkiness.

“Oh,” Jake said. An awkward pause followed. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Amy said apologetically. “I was gonna tell you, but . . . I don’t know. I was afraid it’d be weird.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re just . . .”

“Hey,” Jake said. “I think — I think it’s great, Ames. We’re friends; of course you can tell me.”

Amy smiled at him, relieved. “Oh. Good. Thank you, Jake.”

He forced the weird feeling that he couldn’t quite place to the back of his brain. “I have to ask, though. Is that what you’re wearing?”

She looked down at herself. “What do you mean? Don’t I look okay?”

“Well _I_ think you do, but what if he’s got something against middle school principals?”

The worried look on Amy’s face instantly morphed into annoyance as Jake cackled. “You’re such a butthead sometimes.”

“Santiago,” Jake gasped, putting a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe you called me a butthead. How could you?”

Amy allowed a tiny smile to creep on her face. “Shut up. In all seriousness, you should do the same.”

“Do what? Dress like you? I would, but I don’t wanna upstage you or anything.”

“No, Jake. I mean you should start going on dates again.” 

“Oh.” Jake frowned. “No, no.”

“Why not? It’s almost been a year. You should get back out there.”

“No, no, I’m not ready.” 

Amy shot him an exasperated look. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that in your life. C’mon, Jake. You’ll never get over Sophia if you don’t try. At least go on Tinder or something.”

“Santiago, I never thought I’d see the day where you encourage me to actually go on Tinder,” Jake said, cracking a grin. “Fine, fine. I’ll start swiping again.”

“Good,” Amy said, nodding, but she wondered why she didn’t completely mean it. And during his lunch break, as Jake redownloaded his Tinder app, he wondered why he didn’t feel more excited to finally be dating again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely late update!! I'm back at school and being a barely thriving college student makes it kinda hard to find time to write. I know this is short but I promise the next one will be way more interesting. MUCH LOVE


	5. Chapter 5

Gina cornered Amy when Jake left to use the bathroom. He claimed to really need to poop, but she knew it was just an excuse to play games on his phone until Holt noticed he was gone. “You and Jake have been spending quite a lot of time together,” she said, sweeping some of Amy’s things aside so she could lean on her desk in a proper interrogatory manner.

Amy flinched as some of her files got knocked over, spilling everywhere and mingling with each other. “Gina, I was _working_ ,” she said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice (and failing).

“Oh, boo hoo,” Gina said, unconcerned. “Gimme the scoop, Santiago. What’s goin’ on between you and Jake? Do I sense an office romance coming on? Because, you know, it’s my duty as civilian administrator to inform you that a relationship between coworkers is—”

“No!” Amy interrupted before she could finish her sentence, feeling her cheeks heat up. “We’re just friends, that’s all! And we spend so much time together because we _work_ together. I spend a lot of time with Boyle and Rosa and Terry and you don’t seem to have anything to say about that!”

“Oh, pshaw,” Gina said, waving her hand flippantly. “I don’t just mean here at the precinct. I know you guys go to foreign films and shop for office supplies and watch paint dry, or whatever it is you do on your downtime, Santiago.”

“I don’t do any of those things,” Amy said, annoyed. 

“ _Suuuuure_ you don’t.”

“And anyway, I was just telling Jake that I’m going on a date tonight, and I encouraged him to do the same.”

“Oh, Amy,” Gina _tsk_ ed. “The boy’s just not ready for that.”

“No offense, Gina, but I think Jake is capable of making his own decisions.”

Gina gave her a look. “Do you really think that? Because then you must not know Jake as well as I thought you did.”

She had a point. Jake was by no means a helpless child, but he’d certainly be happy to live off of fruit roll-ups and orange soda forever if he didn’t have anyone to nag him about eating real food. “I mean in terms of dating,” Amy said. “He’s been doing fine on his own up until now. And everyone goes through tough breakups. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

Gina raised her eyebrows, but before she could speak, Jake came back. “Hey, Ames,” he said brightly. “I took your advice and re-downloaded Tinder and I already have a few matches!”

“That’s what you were doing while you were in the bathroom?” Gina asked, amused.

“Yes. That, and beating your Cwazy Cupcakes high score,” Jake said. Gina’s eyes widened and she rushed off to her desk, presumably to reclaim her title. Jake grinned and Amy couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s great,” she said. “Are you going to meet up with any of them?”

He shrugged. “Too soon to tell, but maybe.”

“That’s great,” she said again. “You really should.”

Jake sat down at his desk, and she pretended not to watch every time his phone lit up with a new message from a Tinder match, and she pretended she didn’t know why it made a knot form in her stomach every time.

* * *

On Monday morning, Amy didn’t look up when Jake slid into his seat across from her, late as usual. He’d texted her on Saturday night to say that he was meeting up with a girl from Tinder for drinks, and to wish him luck.

She had, but privately, she hoped it didn’t go well at all. What kind of friend was she? How could she think that?

For a while, the two of them didn’t speak. Then, Jake finally said, “I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”

She raised her eyes to his face. For once, his expression was hard to read. “Okay,” she agreed. “You first.”

Slowly, a grin spread onto his face. “Bad,” he said. “ _Really_ bad.”

“Oh, thank God,” Amy said, laughing. “Not that I . . . I mean, mine was bad too.”

“Did you cry during yours?” Jake asked dryly.

“No . . .” Amy said slowly. “Why, did yours?” Jake merely blinked at her, waiting for her to get it, and Amy’s eyes widened. “Oh, Jake. You _didn’t_.”

“Oh, I did,” Jake nodded.

Amy felt her lips start to twitch, but she forced them to remain in a flat line. It worked for about a minute until Jake rolled his eyes. “Go ahead and laugh, I know you want to.”

“I don’t!” Amy protested, but the effect was lost as a giggle escaped her lips as she spoke. Soon she and Jake were both cracking up. “How did that even happen?” she asked, catching her breath. 

“It started out well!” Jake said defensively. “Well, sorta. She didn’t get any of my _Die Hard_ references.”

“How _dare_ she,” Amy said in mock outrage.

“I know, right? So we switched to small talk, and I found out that one of her brothers is a lawyer, so.”

“So?” Amy said, not following.

“Well, Sophia’s a lawyer.”

“Oh my God. And that’s why you cried?” Amy began to laugh again.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad,” Jake said, though he was grinning himself. “I had to leave the restaurant and everything.”

“Oh, Jake,” Amy said, trying to sound sympathetic. “Stuff like that takes a while. One day we’ll be able to go on not-shitty dates.”

“It wasn’t a total loss,” Jake said. “I still slept with her.”

Amy blinked. “Oh.” She didn’t know why she was surprised. Jake was good-looking and it had been a Tinder date after all; of course they were going to hook up after. But it made her feel odd, like her bad date was now insignificant.

Sensing the awkwardness, Jake quickly said, “So, how was your date?”

“The usual,” Amy said, shrugging. “He wouldn’t stop talking about himself the entire time. I could barely get a word in.”

“That’s interesting,” Jake interrupted. “Now, can we talk about me some more?”

She rolled her eyes at him as he grinned, and just like that the weirdness was gone.

* * *

“You and Amy have been spending a lot of time together lately,” Charles remarked.

“Yeah, so?” Jake said, squatting down to examine a bloodstain on the carpet of the apartment they were at.

“Is anything happening there?” Charles asked. “You know I’d love to see you with a strong woman, Jake.”

“First of all, that’s weird,” Jake said, frowning up at him. “Second of all, there’s literally a dead body feet away from us, Charles.”

“So?”

“So, this kind of isn’t the time. And anyway, Amy and I are just friends. And I like being just her friend.” Jake straightened up. 

“Weren’t you the one who said it wasn’t possible for men and women to be friends because of the sex thing?” Charles said, following him through the apartment.

“Yes,” Jake said dully. “That was ages ago. I’ve amended my statement, because it clearly is possible, thank you very much. I can talk to Amy about stuff I can’t necessarily talk about with anyone else.”

Charles’s eyes widened. “Jakey, what do you mean? You can always talk to me about anything!”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Jake said quickly, trying to reassure him. “I just meant . . . like, we both have trouble sleeping. So sometimes we’ll just talk on the phone at, like, three in the morning. And that’s nice.”

“That’s it, from now on I’m never sleeping.”

“Charles, no. You’re still my best friend. Amy’s just my best friend in a different way, totally non romantic-stylez.” As Jake said that, an idea slowly hatched in his head. “And you know what? I’ll prove it to you. How would you like to go on a date?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has taken me years and it's not that good and I'm SORRY. things are boring right now but they'll get better I promise maybe


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m really not sure this is a good idea,” Charles said for the millionth time. “Amy’s my co-worker. And yours too. Are you sure you really want us to date?”

“Yes Charles, I’m sure,” Jake said breezily as they left the precinct. He’d managed to convince Amy to go on a double date with him, under the condition that they each bring someone to set the other up with. Little did she know that he was setting her up with someone she already knew. Was she going to kill him? Probably. Unless it worked out, then maybe she'd only maim him a little.

“Listen, I’ve finally reached a new place in my life where I’m comfortable with the fact that it’s just me and my work. I don’t think this is necessary.”

“But what if you guys get along really well and start dating and get married? Then I’ll get to be your best man. Isn’t that what you want?” Jake knew for a fact that it was Charles’s lifelong dream to be a part of Jake’s wedding party and vice-versa.

Sure enough, his friend bit his lip. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot.”

They entered the restaurant and saw Amy and another woman sitting at a table in the back. “Ladies,” Jake greeted them, sitting down across from Amy’s friend. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced. Detective Jake Peralta.”

She shook his hand. “Genevieve Mirren-Carter. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Charles Boyle,” Charles said, reaching out to shake her hand too. “Jake’s best friend.”

There was a pause. “He’s also a detective too,” Jake added when it became clear Boyle wasn’t going to. 

“Oh, right,” Charles agreed, waving it off.

Jake carefully watched Amy’s face. First she looked confused as Charles took the seat across from her. Then, understanding slowly dawned as she realized why he was there. Finally she looked murderous. Jake tried to avoid her eyes as she glared at him, but there was no use. He smiled weakly, only to get the _We will talk about this later when there are no witnesses around to see me kill you_ look in return.

Great.

“So, Genevieve, how do you and Amy know each other?” Jake asked quickly, trying to prolong his impending doom.

“We both studied art history in college,” Genevieve said. “I run an art gallery now.”

"Jake's mom is an art teacher," Amy jumped in.

"So you must know some things about it!" Genevieve said. Amy tried to hide a smile; Jake knew absolutely nothing about art. Served him right for setting her up on this thing.

“Oh,” Jake said, thinking fast. “I love art! Yeah, that painting of those lily pads . . . Mozart, am I right?”

“That’s Monet,” Charles corrected him quietly. Genevieve smiled at him.

As the evening wore on, it became clear that Jake’s plan had supremely backfired. While Amy and Charles weren’t particularly close at work, there was obviously a good reason for it: they really didn’t have much in common. And, as it turned out, neither did Jake and Genevieve.

“So, what are we going to order?” Jake asked after several minutes of horribly boring conversation.

“I think I’m going to get the chicken with pesto,” Amy said, staring at the menu with her brow furrowed.

“Oh, Charles, Amy is a _great_ food ordererer,” Jake said enthusiastically. “Not only does she pick the best thing on the menu, but she orders it in a way that the chef didn’t even know how good it could be.” Charles was a huge foodie. Everyone at the precinct knew that if he brought a dish in, it probably didn’t have any ingredients you could find in America in it.

“Hmm,” Genevieve said. “I always thought that pesto was the quiche of the 80s.”

Charles looked up from his menu so fast Jake thought he heard his neck crack. “I wrote that.”

“ _What?_ ” Jake and Genevieve said at the same time.

“No way!” Genevieve said. “You wrote that?”

“Wow, Charles, since when are you a writer?” Jake asked. “No, seriously, since when?”

Charles looked bashful. “I did a guest piece for _New York Magazine’s_ restaurant section a few months ago.”

“Yes! That’s where I read it! That piece had a real impact on me, it really did,” Genevieve said. “I really admire how articulate you are. And that paragraph about horse liver, wow . . .”

“Ah! A fellow foodie!” Charles said. They both laughed. Jake and Amy exchanged a look. They both knew exactly what was going on.

The rest of the dinner continued on pretty much like that, and finally it was time to go. Jake and Charles walked a little ahead of the girls to speak privately. “What do you think of Amy?” Jake asked, although he knew it was pointless.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Charles said absently. “Listen, are you going to call Genevieve?”

“Well, uh . . . I’m guessing you want to?” Jake said.

“Only if it’s okay with you,” Charles said, eyes widening. “You know I’d never try to break our Guy Code.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jake said. “I’m just, y’know, worried about Amy. She’s still in a vulnerable state right now from her breakup, so maybe you could wait a week to call Genevieve?”

“Oh, of course,” Charles said, nodding seriously.

Behind them, Amy and Genevieve were having the exact same conversation. “So, what’d you think of Jake?” Amy asked.

“He was nice,” Genevieve said politely. 

“Do you think you’ll go out with him?”

“Well . . . he was nice and all, but I really think Charles and I hit it off tonight. Do you mind if I call him instead? I know he was your date, but . . .”

“No, not at all,” Amy said quickly. She was relieved, but she wasn’t sure if it was because that meant she wouldn’t have to date Charles or because Jake wouldn’t have to date Genevieve. “It’s just that Jake is still having a tough time because of the divorce, and I think a rejection would really hurt him right now.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Genevieve said. “I understand.”

The girls caught up with Jake and Charles and the four of them walked in silence for a minute. Then, rather abruptly, Charles said, “Well I don’t feel like walking anymore. I think I’ll get a cab.”

“I’ll go with you!” Genevieve said. 

“Great!” Charles said. “Taxi!” He waved one down. Genevieve took his arm and they hopped in without so much as a goodbye to their friends.

Jake and Amy watched it drive off, stunned. “Well,” Jake said finally. “Do you think she’ll call me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been SO LONG since I updated and I'm sorry!! I got some inspiration back for this so hopefully the next one will be more frequent, especially since it's finally getting interesting. 
> 
> (also I know setting up Amy with Charles is stupid but it was the only way I could get him to meet Genevieve so let's bend the canon around a little just this once thanks)


	7. Chapter 7

So, Charles and Genevieve were a thing. Like, capital “t” Thing. And Jake had to admit, they were good together. Genevieve was the only person who could not only match Charles’s quirkiness, but sometimes she made Charles look sane.

Jake was happy for them, he really was. He remembered all too well how miserable his best friend had been when Eleanor divorced him, and then again when Vivian broke off their engagement. Besides, it would’ve been weird if Charles and Amy had ended up hitting it off. The entire office dynamic would’ve been thrown off completely. 

“Don’t you think they’re moving a little fast?” Amy asked. It was only about two months after the semi-disastrous double date and Charles and Genevieve had already decided to move in together. Jake and Amy were currently utilizing their common day off to go shopping for a housewarming gift.

“Yeah, but so what? If you know, you know,” Jake said.

“Jake, you’re like the biggest commitment-phobe I know,” Amy said, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, well, Charles’s dad didn’t leave him and his mom to go have dozens of affairs with sleazy women,” Jake said, pretending to be interested in an infomercial for a blender that was chopping up a rock into hundreds of tiny pieces. “D’you think they’d like this?”

“Why would they need a blender so powerful that it can chop rocks?” Amy asked. “And don’t think you can just change the subject like that.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jack said distractedly. “Ooh, plants! Let’s go see.” Amy rolled her eyes, but followed him over to the aisle. 

“Why would anyone want a plant named after a spider?” Jake said, recoiling as if it was going to actually turn into one. 

“This is pretty,” Amy said, pointing to one. “And it’s got a nice name. Peace Lily.”

“Yeah, whatever. Ames, check this one out, it’s super badass: _Viper’s bowstring hemp._ ” Jake looked at her eagerly when he said it, his eyes bright. He was so cute when he got excited over silly things like that. 

_Wait, what?_ Jake wasn’t cute. He was her co-worker and her friend. And, okay, maybe he had brown eyes, and Amy always liked brown eyes, but still. There was no way she was going to go there. 

Suddenly, Jake’s gaze drifted past Amy’s shoulder and his grin faded, slowly being replaced by a look of absolute horror. “What?” Amy said, alarmed. “What is it? Are you going to throw up or something?” She knew she should’ve tried harder to stop him from eating that bodega sushi. 

He shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“ _Sophia._ ”

Before Amy really had time to react, a voice behind her said, “Hi, Jake.” She turned around and came face-to-face with the infamous Sophia Perez.

Amy had seen pictures of her, of course. Jake had showed her a few, and she may or may not have seen some old ones of them when she was stalking Jake’s Instagram late one night. But they certainly didn’t do her justice; Sophia was gorgeous: tall, well-dressed, and way more put-together than Amy could ever hope to be.

“Hi,” Jake said, his voice cracking a little. He coughed and tried again. “Um, hi. How are you?”

“Good, good,” Sophia said. “How are you?” 

“Great,” Jake said. “I’ve been doing great. Wonderful. Fantastic, even.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sophia said, and she seemed sincere, even though she probably knew it was a lie. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Well, time is a man-made concept, but I guess so,” Jake said, shrugging. Amy stared at him. She’d never seen him look so . . . nervous. 

“Sophia?” another voice called. A tall, handsome man exited the aisle next to them and came over. “Did you find—oh.” He backed up a little. “Sorry.”

Now Sophia looked a little embarrassed. “Um, Jake, you remember Richard, right?”

“How could I not?” Jake asked. The unsaid _you left me for him, didn’t you?_ hung in the air. “Hello, Richard.” 

“Hey, man, good to see you,” Richard said uncomfortably. “Um, I’ll just be over here.” He darted away, and Amy was briefly jealous of his easy escape before she realized Sophia was looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” Sophia said, extending her hand. “I’m being rude. Sophia Perez.”

“Oh, right,” Jake said, like he was coming out of a trance. “Um, this is—”

“Amy Santiago,” Amy said. She knew she should say that she and Jake were just co-workers, but for some reason she just . . . didn’t. She shook Sophia’s hand before grasping Jake’s arm, not missing the way the other woman’s eyes followed the movement. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Sophia said, still staring. “So, what have you been up to, Jake?”

“Nothing much,” Jake said with a shrug. “Still a detective at the nine-nine.”

“That’s great,” she said. “Amy, what do you do?”

“Um, I’m also a detective at the nine-nine,” Amy said. She chose her next words carefully. “That’s how Jake and I met, actually.”  
“Really.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s a funny story, because we _really_ met when I drove him to the Police Academy like, what, ten years ago? We had a mutual friend and it was a whole thing. But then I transferred to the nine-nine and we reconnected. So.” She smiled at Jake, who had a bewildered look on his face.

“That’s great,” Sophia said slowly. “Wow. Well, I should get going, but it was great to run into you, Jake. I’m really happy you’re doing so well.”

“Thanks . . .” Jake said, almost like a question. 

“And Amy, it was great to meet you.”

“You too,” Amy said, shaking her hand. “Take care.” With one last wave, Sophia left, presumably to go find Richard.

The two of them stood there for a few more seconds before Amy realized she was still holding Jake’s arm. She dropped it and stepped away quickly, clearing her throat. “Um. So, that was interesting.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, looking a little more like himself than he had a minute ago. “Let me just get one thing straight, though.”

“Okay.”

“Were you kind-of-but-not-really-but-also-kind-of manipulating Sophia into thinking you and I were together?”

Amy flushed. “I didn’t say anything outright,” she defended herself. “But, you know . . . if the things I _did_ say led her to that conclusion, well . . . what are you gonna do?”

Jake finally cracked a grin. “Amy Santiago, you devil. I can’t believe you would lie like that, to an attorney no less.”

Amy scoffed. “Look, you were just standing there like a deer in headlights. I had to help somehow.”

“Yeah,” Jake said with a sigh. “That tends to happen when Sophia’s around. God, can you believe she asked if I remembered Richard? Of course I remember the guy who literally tore my life apart.”

“I know,” Amy said, patting his back. “C’mon, we should get going. Wanna get the plant with the cool name?”

Jake brightened. “Viper’s bowstring hemp? Hells yeah.” He went to go grab one off the shelf, but Amy stayed where she was. For some reason, the fact that she’d been so quick to jump in and defend Jake was bothering her. He was her friend, of course, but maybe it was more than that. Like she was being protective over something she wasn’t sure she even wanted a stake in.

“Ames, you coming?” Jake called. 

Amy snapped out of it. “Yeah, sorry, just zoned out,” she answered, and dutifully followed him to the register.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LORDY I know it's been a while and I'm so sorry. I hope this makes up for the absence and if not please feel free to throw tomatoes


End file.
